


Out of Sorts

by nachan00



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Adventure, Comedy, Drama, M/M, Romance, Slow Build, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-12-03
Updated: 2012-12-30
Packaged: 2017-11-20 04:07:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/581140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nachan00/pseuds/nachan00
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is trying to move on after the kanima events and Derek is preparing his pack for what's to come. Unfortunately, nothing goes their way and they become exceptions to their own rules.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Red and Black

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first foray into Teen Wolf fanfiction, I have no particular hopes about it, but I've been dying to write something since I started watching the show this summer. I hope you'll enjoy it. Rating and tags might change with future chapters and development. For now I'm just enjoying the ride. Cheers.

 

Stiles didn't know why he woke up every morning to do whatever it was he did with his life anymore. Although his nightmares had diminished considerably and he had finally gotten around to sleep more than the usual four hours a day he had been managing for the past few months, he still felt drowsy and out of sorts. Mornings were just the worst, nights too, in fact, mornings and nights were terrible. Any time Stiles found himself enough solitude and silence to think those deep adolescent thoughts and ponder the meaning of life, it was absolute hell. His brain became the juncture of everything real and unreal he feared to remember, be it about werewolves, his dad, his guilt or Lydia. Whatever it was, it was bad. Thus very little was left that he could actually enjoy thinking about. Perhaps food, not even that. The web of lycanthropic events he had gotten himself tangled in didn't leave him particularly hungry for anything else other than an army of wolfsbane Ents. That and lots of time battling mythical creatures online. A person had to let off some steam, right? He lacked the claws, fangs and hairy werewolf body to be little more than tech assistance whenever shit hit the fan, even more so when he was angry and mad at the world. You wouldn't see Stiles running through the woods killing little animals and gnawing on trees, no siree!; which did not mean Stiles felt short of respect for the werewolf status. He thought it cool reputation-wise. Well, ignore that. He thought it _awesome_. However, being the eternal target of a hunter's rifle was not exactly his dream job, not to mention being on the constant aim of the resident sourwolf's mind control.

Needless to say, it was not an eagerness for any kind of bite that stomped on Stiles' emotional stability. He certainly didn't want it. He had already seen way too many lives gone wrong to know better than to take that route, yet his problems wouldn't get solved by themselves. He knew that well enough.

Stiles blessed his beloved Adderall and dragged his feet out of bed towards the bathroom. With head cast down in shame, he tried not to look up at his reflection on the mirror. He wasn't exactly the pinnacle of beauty after waking up and with Gerard's latest addictions to his array of welts and cuts, he looked even grimmer. It was only when he started to replay Lydia and Jackson's pretty scene in his mind for the eightieth time that he found himself staring at his poor excuse of a face. He was brushing his teeth at the speed a turtle crosses a desert and foam was dripping down his chin, splashing all over the sink and floor.

"When I think you can't start making a mess before breakfast..." he heard a voice groan from the doorway. Stiles frowned half-asleep at his dad and avoided the look of reproach the Sheriff sent him through the mirror. He managed to reply something unintelligible and dropped his toothbrush in the process.

"Hurry up kid, the table is set"

It didn't take a genius IQ to understand the cause of Stiles' lethargy. Heartbreak was written all over him and if he got it inked he would probably be mistaken by some excessively tattooed emo rock band member. The pain was not wholly strange to him though. Almost a decade of unrequited love had put a definite dent on his hopes and dreams but, at the same time, it had strengthened them too. He thought they were sturdy. He thought he could handle total annihilation and win Lydia's heart sooner or later. But he was dead wrong. Devastation was the inevitable outcome and, putting things in perspective, he was actually glad he was human because getting over something that emotionally damaging as a werewolf would probably kill him and a whole lot of people as well.

"Another line to add my _Reasons to reject The Bite_ list" Stiles murmured to himself as he climbed down the steps to the kitchen.

His dad patted him on the back and urged him on. They were both running late.

* * *

After the last and only time Derek had slashed his uncle's throat wide open, he would never have believed he would share what was left of their family home with the man who had killed his sister in a craze for revenge. He was still wrapping his mind about it and sorting out his priorities, namely the one where Peter Hale was in for definite and utter death.

"Done with your third morning workout for a bit of chore distribution? We should put up some timetables for the cubs" Peter wondered aloud.

Derek's tolerance for derision was stretching its quota with the man around. His acquaintance with Stiles made a sneer or two bearable, but Stiles was avoidable, his uncle not as much.

"It's the cubs that we're missing here" Derek deadpanned. After announcing they were running off to find another pack, Erica and Boyd had been deleted from Derek's radar. He had not liked their decision but with the kanima issue pressuring him at the time, he had had no other choice but to respect their wishes and let them go. However, it all changed once he heard their howl the following night. It was pain, it was fear, it was a cry for help. Derek let go of the steel bar he was using for flexing and set his feet on the ground.

"The Alpha pack must have tracked them down already" Peter said.

"You don't know that" Derek growled. Peter rolled his eyes and sighed, ignoring the beastly outburst of this nephew.

"It was just a guess Derek. You know how I love a good prowl through the forest" Peter replied with mock. Derek just brushed the comment aside, grabbed his leather jacket and made for the front door.

"I'm checking the warehouse first" he said.

"You know it's useless right?"

"I'm not going to sit still waiting for something to happen. It's my pack" Derek told him.

"I'll see what I can sniff out on these woods, but don't expect a miracle. I'm not going to engage in a fight alone against them" Peter stated.

"No one told you to" Derek grumbled displeased. Want it or not, Peter was part of his pack now. Hale blood was not water, not even after rebirth. It meant family.

"What about Isaac?" Peter asked as Derek shut the door of his car.

"He's at school. I'll meet him later"

"You should use him as a link to Scott and Jackson given you are such a sure way to get their trust"

Derek's usual frown deepened. He didn't need to be reminded of his screw-ups on a daily basis, especially when the ones involved were not the brightest peas in the pod to begin with. Scott was the definition of an airhead and Jackson wasn't the captain of the lacrosse team pre-lycanthropy for nothing.

"He is doing his job" Derek snarled and drove away. He saw his uncle disappear into the forest through the rear-view mirror and then sped up.

The drive to the warehouse seemed endless. Derek tried to escape his thoughts to no avail. It didn't matter if his focus was on the road because his mind went immediately back to his pack. An instinctive worry for Erica and Boyd wore him down to bits and anxiety over Scott and Jackson's decisions would simply not go away. He also sensed the vague but distinct presence of the alphas looming over the town like a ghost and spoiling every scent with menace. Somehow Stiles' voice came to his mind in a panic.

" _What could possibly go wrong?_ "

Derek chuckled before he meant to and took a turn left. On the opposite lane he glimpsed a familiar jeep pass by in a blur. It was enough to set his heart racing. The coincidence almost choke him and Stiles' confused expression and wide open eyes accompanied him for the rest of his journey.

* * *

Stiles parked his jeep so clumsily he might as well have been parking it in the middle of the Amazonian rainforest. He managed to get out in one piece but tripped on the curb, almost falling on his face. When he got up he met Scott's grinning face five inches away from his.

"Hey-"

"Oh my God! I just saw Derek smiling. He was driving and smiling to himself. Scott, listen to me. This is bad. Like real Satan-out-from-Hell kind of bad. We have to do something!" Stiles blabbered, hands gesticulating so fast he almost slapped Scott's nose off his skull.

"He was just greeting you" Scott said with a shrug of shoulders.

"Scott" Stiles' tone fell to abrupt condescension "It's Derek we're talking about here. Derek Hale" he said pointing to the void between them "Derek Hale. Stiles Stilinski" he pointed to himself "We don't do smiley greetings, not even by texting" he pulled his cellphone out from his pocket and jiggled it.

"Oh- Ok" Scott agreed "He heard a good joke on the radio or something"

"Listen to me buddy, at this point, be honest, you really think Derek even listens to the radio? Help me here"

Scott shook his head shyly and looked over Stiles' shoulder. The latter instantly assumed Allison had just appeared in sight.

"Hey, hey, hey. Remember the thing about you waiting for her and stuff?" Stiles' asked, waving a hand in front of Scott.

"Y-yeah, yeah I did. Doesn't mean I can't look" Scott complained.

"Sure, but now we have more important matters. Derek was smiling. Something is wrong. Something _evil_ "

Scott sent him a look of disbelief "Stiles no"

"You remember Matt, uh? Remember him? Drowned-school-boy with a vengeance? Master of kanimas and stalker skills? Yeah, remember when I said something about him being evil?"

"Stiles, Derek's smile is not evil" Scott insisted as they started heading for the school entrance.

"Could you please stop taking his side for like five seconds and listen to your best friend? Heed my wise words you must. Dude this is-"

"Hey" Isaac's tall figure appeared beside them as they walked up the school's front steps. He had bags under his eyes and looked as pale as chalk.

"Hey Isaac, what's up" Scott paused mid-sentence noticing his bad shape "You don't look so good" he noted. Stiles nodded too. It was hard to be oblivious to Isaac's languor.

"I can barely sleep. I think it's the pack"

"Still no news from Erica or Boyd?" Scott asked.

"Nothing. I think it's affecting Derek as well"

"Doubt it" Stiles whispered. Scott and Isaac looked at him with disapproval, after which he chirped a quick "Forget I'm here"

"What about you? Do you feel anything weird?" Isaac asked Scott.

"Not really, no. Derek's not my Alpha"

Stiles noticed Isaac squinting slightly at the remark, as if the rejection had physically hurt him. The imminent threat posed by the alpha pack had intensified the need to expand pack numbers. It was already known that had been the reason why Derek had begun biting every willing teenager in sight awhile ago, but now that the danger was finally here the need for numbers was stronger and Isaac clearly felt it too. His disappointment was not surprising.

"But that doesn't mean we can't help, right?" Scott offered with a soft smile and he turned to Stiles expecting a nod. Stiles was a bit startled but unable to protest seeing Isaac's pitiful state.

"Yes sure, why not. I can never get enough of life or death situations, being a human and all"

The bell rang at that moment, saving him from a profound awkward silence. He sat down on his spot behind Scott, chewing on his hoodie's drawstring with regret. His words had left a bitter taste in his mouth, yet it was too soon for him to be jumping back into the boiling pot. How much of a break were they ever going to get? Why, with everything that seemed to be terrorizing them, was Derek freaking Hale smiling? Stiles' jittery leg was on before he noticed, tapping the floor nonstop.

* * *

The abandoned warehouse seemed to be in the same condition Derek had found it in the past week. Empty, stinking of rust, messy and dark. There was no sign of Erica or Boyd anywhere, their scents were gone, barely a memory lingering in the air. He was running out of options; getting closer and closer to despair. Nevertheless, he knew they weren't dead yet. He could feel the bond they shared. It was weak but it was there and he was going to find them. He had to.

Derek sat down, head resting on his knees. He could feel a sort of headache coming, a feverish warmth heating up his brain. Sweat soon began trickling down his neck and he felt too heavy to even stand. He tried to calm down and breathe but the change was drastic and immediate. A metallic taste mixed with bile at the back of his throat made him gag. He tried to change but lost control halfway.

"Wha-"

Words did not form, only strange and muffled howls escaped his mouth. Derek's heart began beating abnormally fast, almost twice its usual beating, then thrice. He was scared his heart might burst out and his head was not feeling any better. He noticed he had fallen to the ground when he almost choked on a cloud of dust and dirt.

"Urgh!" He gasped desperately for air and clawed the ground frenetically, spasms shaking his whole body.

Derek tried to get a hold of his senses, smell anyone nearby but he couldn't. When bones started cracking he gave up and lost his mind.

* * *

Stiles was leaning against his locker waiting for Scott to finish his five-minute "date" with Allison outside the swimming pool complex. He could be watching the swimming team practice instead of counting the number of gingers that walked by, but he chose not to. The last time he had been by the pool nothing good had come out of it and the memories were still too raw to even digest. Moreover, Stiles had spent most of his classes thinking about Derek and rewinding his life back to the two hours he had wasted holding up the ridiculous guy so he wouldn't drown, only made him feel worse about himself.

"Hey knucklehead where's Scott?" Jackson's voice cut Stiles from his trance. He sighed unconsciously and lost his laid-back pose once he saw Lydia by his side.

"Hi" she cheeped sweetly. Her shiny red lipstick was in place as well as her strawberry blond hair draped over her tiny shoulders and framing her face perfectly. Stiles was taken a back by the sudden appearance of the couple, so much so that Lydia had barely entered his field of vision. He didn't feel very blinded by her presence and he hadn't counted a single ginger head either during his wait which was weird. It used to be such a sure way to keep him distracted. Stiles blamed the emotional marring he had sustained ever since Jackson had been brought back from his lizard ways.

"H-hey guys. Scott is.. uh, he is... not here" he wanted to kill himself as each sound left his being.

"Yeah we didn't know that" Jackson scoffed. Lydia just kept looking at him with a strange blank stare. Stiles decided beforehand it was better to ignore her altogether, hence focusing on Jackson who somehow looked a bit like-

"Isaac"

"What, what about him?" Jackson replied perplexed, clearly not following Stiles' train of thought.

"You don't look good either"

"I always look-"

"Wait, wait, you don't understand. Are you feeling tired? Exhausted? Restless?" Stiles was beginning to see a pattern, but he was not sure if Jackson fitted. He had been the kanima during the time Derek created his pack so he would probably not feel Erica and Boyd's absence as strongly.

"Not rea-"

"Yes. He was complaining about a minor headache two minutes ago" Lydia interrupted Jackson before he could put on a brave front and lie. Stiles found it all very sweet and annoying.

"So it affects you too" he ended up saying. Lydia's big eyes were boring holes on the left side of his face and Stiles knew he would have to explain everything to her if the conversation kept going any further.

"What affects me?"

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing really, pack stuff, nothing to worry about. You should ask Derek about it-" Stiles squeezed himself against the lockers and tried to make a discreet run for it when Jackson grabbed a hold of his hoodie and locked him in place.

"No, you know something. Spill it"

"I seriously don't know. It's just a theory of mine anyway" Stiles replied peeved. His routine as the communal werewolf punching bag was getting old. He wrestled out of Jackson's grip and stepped away.

"Have you seen Derek then?"

Stiles shook his head and left feeling a bit mislead. Jackson seemed genuinely worried about Derek just then, which made his headache kind of legitimate. Could Derek have found Erica and Boyd? Or could something along the lines of blood and gore and death have happened to them, something painful enough to resonate through the pack's werewolf senses? Stiles was never happy in his speculations.

Scott found him a few corridors ahead and at once he could tell something wasn't right. Stiles gave him a quick summary of what had and might be happening and asked him if he felt any exhaustion.

"No, I don't feel anything spooky either, besides the alphas" Scott answered sadly.

"What about howling?" Stiles remembered they could hear each others' calls.

"Nope, maybe they're too far away and besides, the school is crowded. Makes it hard to listen"

Stiles sighed and scratched the back of head furiously. He was racking his brain trying to think of way to explain what the hell could be sucking the life out of those werewolves but he was dry. He needed a laptop and internet connection.

"Hey look it's Isaac" Scoot nudged him with his elbow and Stiles drew his attention to the tall boy standing in the sidewalk. They walked up to him in quick steps hoping he wasn't having some kind of seizure.

"Man, you okay?"

"Isaac?"

Scott turned him around and he seemed to be fine, alive and breathing, but his mind was definitely somewhere else. Stiles and Scott began speaking hurriedly at the same time.

"Jackson isn't feeling very well. He looks pale just like you. You think it might be some kind of disease? He is a bit retarded so it's only natural he gets it delayed, but he is totally feeling something weird. You feel any change?"

"Isaac, you there? What's wrong, tell us something, you're looking worse. Where's Derek? Have you called him? Any news?"

Isaac opened his mouth at the word Derek "He is not here" he said morosely enough to shut them up. Both shared an expectant look.

"So?" Stiles pressed on.

"He should be here. He was going to pick me up but he isn't here and I don't feel him anywhere. I don't understand. Something's happening"

"You don't feel him anywhere?" Scott's voice resembled an echo "Let me see" while he closed his eyes and focused on finding any trace of Derek nearby, Stiles's brain was already three thousand and twenty four steps ahead.

"Is he dead?" was the only thing he managed to spew out.

"I don't know"

Isaac's answer was not very helpful and Stiles would have wittily pointed it out on any other day not this one. The mere possibility of Derek being dead was enough to stop Stiles from breathing. He wasn't sure why but whatever killed Derek could certainly kill everyone else, so there was that.

"I can't feel anything either. Let's get out of here and look around" Scott suggested.

"Yeah let's spread" Isaac followed but Stiles stopped both of them.

"No, no, no, no, no, no! Let's NOT spread" he corrected aloud "No one is going anywhere until we figure this thing out" he took a deep breath and turned to Isaac "Does Derek do any daily checks on his lair? It seems like the first place where Erica and Boyd would turn up if they turned up" Stiles reasoned, murdering all the eloquence he might have with his last sentence.

Isaac's frightened stare eased to a calmer look and he nodded with his head.

"Great. Let's start there"

They hopped onto his jeep and drove away. Barely two miles away from the warehouse Scott and Isaac began reacting differently and Stiles' fears doubled. Nothing he wasn't used to.

"There's someone there" Scott was the first to speak up "I'm getting a weird scent"

"Yeah, but it's not completely unfamiliar"

"Guys don't talk unless you've got something reassuring to say. In my world Derek is dead and we're the next in line. Also, quick reminder that a human is here. Driving" Stiles was of the opinion his input was extremely important for his survival and reminding the people with supernatural powers of that was key to success.

"Ok stop here" Scott pointed to the side of the road thirty feet across from the warehouse. Stiles hit the brakes and did as he was told.

"Come on"

"Are we all going?!" Stiles asked flabbergast.

"You said not to spread" Scott said confused.

"Yeah, ok, I did, I did, let's go then" Stiles sighed and followed Isaac. He was resigned to his fate.

Inside the warehouse everything was quiet; not even a fly flickered near the lamps. However, after closer inspection there was a corner near the old railroad car were things seemed more damaged than the rest. At first glance it was nothing that did not blend in with the surroundings, yet, there were claw marks on the ground and a nice trail that led to the back of the warehouse. Stiles walked along it until there ceased to be any rusty ceiling above him. Outside there was only a cloudy sky and cold wind blowing through Beacon Hills. Trees rustled with the breeze and birds flew from tree to tree at random intervals. Stiles glanced back to point out how ominous it all was but no one was around.

"Oh ok, cool. Alone. By the woods" Stiles cheered himself. He stared back at the ground to make sure the trail was still there and he felt relieved. He was glad it wasn't some illusion because for a moment he had succumbed to doubt.

Out of sheer stupidity, or maybe daring curiosity, Stiles moved on. The trail led him on into the woods and began to change gradually. It went from claw marks to a mere dragging of a body and further ahead there were only animal paws, normal animal paws that looked like a-

Stiles heard a rustle nearby. He looked behind him nervously and, to his surprise, saw the top of the warehouse in the distance. He had wandered too far. A million curses erupted inside his head. He took a few steps backwards and tried to stay away from any fidgety and suspicious bushes. His back was eager to find comfort in some big wall or thick tree, but he was known for his lack of luck.

"I should not be allowed these kind of cliches in my life- oh my God!" he yelped as his foot stepped on something slippery and squashy. He tried not to think about it but his brain was screaming FLESH FLESH FLESH without any intention of stopping until he confirmed it. For the hundredth time that day, Stiles took a deep breath and turned around, not quite ready to stumble upon Derek's corpse. No, not ready at all. Never ready in fact. No. No corpses for Stiles. His OCD chose the most perfect moment to kick in with a bang. While frozen in his spot, Stiles tried to reach a trembling hand into his pocket and take out his phone but another rustling bush startled him enough to drop the damn thing to the ground. It was then that he turned back by impulse and met the bloodied remains of a deer. A tear fell down from his eye to the pool of blood massing at his feet.

"Oh God, oh God, oh God" it was the only think he was able to say and speaking turned out to be quite comforting, even if he was only talking to himself.

"S-Scott. Where's Scott. Shit, my phone" Stiles stooped down to search for his phone among the dead leaves. His hands were shaking and the noise he made was sure to alarm the whole freaking forest of his presence. He picked up his phone and dialed Scott as fast as he could. He stepped slowly away from the deer and scanned the place around him while the call beeps soothed him. When Scott picked up it was all Stiles could do not to yell for help.

"You found the trail? Follow it right now. Something's up here. Quick, I think..."

Stiles speech abandoned him. From between the bushes next to the deer's carcass a big shadow emerged. Dark and red. As the creature stepped into the light something other than blood contrasted against its black fur. Red eyes.

"It's a wolf"


	2. The First Time

"Stiles? Stiles! Stiles!" Scott's yelling over the phone sounded like an echo from deep within the forest, so distant that Stiles felt like he was in a different dimension altogether. The sight before him was not indicative of anything else to be sure. He had his eyes fixed on a black wolf which was abnormally dark, the color just plain wrong for something natural. Blood was dripping from its mouth and its fangs were dyed red from the deer's blood. Stiles was immovable, his feet stitched to the ground. He was afraid to step on the tiniest leaf and trigger the wolf's fury. He might not get eaten, but he was not inclined to get savagely dismembered either. A wolf that size could probably tear off his arm, his leg or even his head. Yeah, definitely his head.

Stiles' heartbeat rose unconsciously as he predicted the outcomes of the encounter and the fearful drumming inside his ribcage seemed to alert the wolf. It had been motionless for a while, sniffing at the dead animal a few times before finally setting its gaze on the skinny defenseless human. It was then, as Stiles stared back at the animal's red eyes, that a crazy idea blossomed. He took two steps back to contemplate the whole thing, but the wolf was onto him before he could change his mind.

"God, no!" Stiles could not manage his yelp and the sound angered the beast. It bared its teeth in a snarl that rattled Stiles' bones and sent a dribble of sweat run down his back.

The situation was bad. Stiles' instincts told him to trust Scott and thus he ran. It was a stupid decision but he had long lost control of his limbs. He'd rather wait for Scott in pursuit than between a wolf's jaws. He put one foot in front of the other so fast he barely saw where he was going. All around him a blur of autumn colors followed him, soon to be blemished by a dark shadow. Stiles heard the wolf's rising pace behind him, each step getting closer. It seemed as if he had run for miles when the wolf's breath reached his ears. His uncoordinated legs fell under the weight on his back and he only had time to throw his arms forward and break his fall. His cheek grazed the ground along with half his body and he spit out a mouthful of dirt in the process. He was panting hard and trying not to flail when he glimpsed the wolf above him with tongue out in haggard breath.

"Oh my God!"

The wolf growled again, the sound etching deeper into Stiles' marrow. The proximity emphasized even further all the sordid details. Stiles could see the tiny chunks of raw meat all over the beast's snout, the blood seeping through the thick fur and the red glowing eyes staring right at him. He lifted his trembling arms to shield his face and brace for incoming pain yet he felt a light tap on his arm when he started on his goodbyes. He opened one eye to peek but saw black fur and shut it again. _'Probably just checking if I'm edible or not, which I definitely am, I sure am a tasty treat, human steak medium rare, oh yeah-_ '

Scott could not come sooner. Stiles was hyperventilating enough for a pack of wolves to eat him alive yet the black wolf kept hovering over him, poking here and there and smelling him. It was definitely weird. Stiles' previous idea popped up again and what followed was a lucky gamble. He tried eye contact with the wolf but it was more interested in snuffling his hoodie than in gobbling his face.

"H-hey..." Stiles spoke in a choking voice, not expecting his idea to work at all. He tried being a little louder but quickly regretted it "Hey!"

The wolf stopped and tensed momentarily startled by the shout. It looked up at him and growled.

"Oh ok then, I'll shut up-! Aaah!" Stiles gasped as a big paw landed on his chest and pushed him down forcefully. Claws jutted out and pierced his shirt making him wince. The wolf drew nearer, the tip of his nose almost touching Stiles' chin. Its low guttural rumbling twisted Stiles' stomach and he cried out in sheer terror.

"Derek?! Derek! I know it's you, right? Derek? Are you listening? Please listen, it's me Stiles, get a grip, hey, Derek! Derek!"

The wolf halted for a second. He seemed surprised and trying to reach out, but snapped instead. His eyes closed and he was moving back, shaking his head. Stiles took the moment to crawl backwards away from the staggered beast in case it might still decide to attack him. It seemed as if it really was Derek in there, battling for some kind of control. The wolf snarled and wailed at intervals while contorting in pain.

"What the hell..." Stiles' baffled expression turned into one of pity once the wailing turned into soft whimpers. The wolf started losing its animal form and began to stretch. The fur disappeared and its limbs became longer. He noticed the snout giving way to some sort of human face, the tail receding to nothingness and the claws turning back into nails. Soon all there was to see was a whole expanse of human skin and the strapping nude figure of Derek Hale. He sank to the ground with a thud, sending a bunch of leaves flying all around him and numb lanky Stiles rushing over. It seemed the perfect time to start calling for help.

"Scott! Scott! SCOTT!"

Stiles wasn't certain if it was the fear inside his body or the puzzlement turning him deaf. It seemed like ages had lapsed by the time Scott and Isaac showed up. The expressions on their faces were not describable as they came upon a distressed Stiles fumbling with Derek's naked body, trying to pull him up and failing miserably. Stiles frowned uncomfortably at the silence. The stares pissed him off more than anything but he also felt a rush of embarrassment creeping up his face and, hasting to deny it, he skipped to his usual array of complaints and facetious comments.

"For the love of God, would you help me here?! Where the hell were you guys? I almost died five hundred times before you got here! Seriously, this is so going to the top of my not-ever-going-to-forgive list! How could you do this to me? Like, can you even look at the floor and see the messy trail this guy left everywhere?" He nodded towards Derek furiously and grunted "Also, speaking of Derek, what the HELL is wrong with him and why is he a freaking wolf-wolf? Wasn't his sister a wolf too? Is this something new? Why can't he control himself? His transformation is the mother of all werewolf-related failures. I mean look at him! Where are his clothes, has anyone thought about that yet? And the poor deer? Derek just ate a deer. Raw. Isn't that something we should be worried about?"

He took a pause to breathe and share a concerned look with the other two boys but they just stared at him in disbelief. They clearly felt the hysteria oozing from him.

"Stiles calm down, you're a little out of-"

"A little?!"

"You're freaked out I get it" Scott corrected himself with a smile, but Stiles wasn't able to return the gesture.

"Here let me" Isaac reached out to take Derek's encumbering weight from Stiles's and he let go, being quickly replaced by Scott. Once he was free he had to muster all his strength not to collapse to the ground.

"Come on. We have to get out of here"

Scott and Isaac dragged the unconscious Derek down to his lair in silence. Stiles followed them without protest in spite of his shaky legs and weak heart, looking over his shoulder every ten seconds in case a new pair of red eyes might start glowing in the woods.

"Stiles see if you can find any of his clothes around here" Scott told him. He replied with a childish roll of yes.

"Yeah sure, you already know that's my favorite job in the whole wide world, if only I got paid, but I do it out of love" he grumbled "Listen, don't you think we should be asking ourselves what the hell happened to Derek?" Stiles pointed out gravely glancing over a nearby bush.

"Yeah but we have no clue what happened. His sister was an Alpha and she had a wolf form, maybe he was able to unlock it too. It could be a family thing"

"Yeah right! Just look at him, does it seem like something he did willfully? He ate a freaking deer. It's disturbing"

"Derek's fine, I can feel it" Isaac stated. Stiles shot him an offended look.

"Isaac's right, he's just passed out. The weird smell earlier must have been his wolf form" Scott nodded.

"Yeah genius, my werewolf senses could sense as much" Stiles said sarcastically "But why and how did he turn? There's no one here right?"

Scott's answer was a shrug of shoulders and Stiles had to control himself not to strangle the indifference out of him.

"We should ask Peter" Isaac suggested.

Stiles' brow twitched and he and Scott shook heads in unison, instantly rejecting Isaac's input.

"Nope"

"No"

"Let's ask Deaton instead, he must know what to do" Stiles recalled.

"Yeah, good idea. But first things first" Scott adjusted his grip on Derek and cleared his throat "We need to find Derek some clothes, we can't leave him like this" Scott turned his pleading eyes to Stiles and pouted.

"Why are you looking at me like that?! I'm not undressing!"

"Because you usually have good ideas at times like this"

"No I don't. I mean, I do but not now. I have just survived a near death experience. Besides, why are Derek-issues always relegated to me? It's getting a little freaky. Is this a kink of yours Scott? Is there something you have to tell me? Cause I'm totally cool with it, but I'm not going to-"

Stiles bantering was interrupted by a long excruciating howl. Scott and Isaac stopped abruptly in their tracks, almost losing their hold on Derek and dropping him to the ground. The hairs at the back of Stiles' neck stood up in alarm and his heart leaped with surprise. They all turned to the direction the sound had come from, Scott and Isaac already changed werewolves.

"It's Peter" Scott announced. He seemed apprehensive and loosened his grip on Derek, letting the alpha fall over to Isaac "I have to go"

"What?!" Isaac and Stiles blurted out equally perplexed.

"He's dying" Scott told them. The news didn't really move Stiles beyond the fact someone nasty he knew was dying, but then he remembered the evil uncle had been the one to bite his best friend so maybe there were some remnants of werewolf bond he might have to take into account.

"I'll go with you. If it's the alpha pack maybe Erica and Boyd might be there"

Stiles' conflicted emotions towards Scott immediately turned to Isaac and his ludicrous statement.

"Don't even dare! The both of you! No! We are staying here to help Stiles recover mentally, emotionally and physically from another one of Derek's assaults to his person which, let me tell you, is nothing new to be sure but he was a wolf this time so-"

"Stiles, it's gonna be okay. Just stay with him and get the hell out of here. Isaac let's go" They sped off so fast Stiles wondered if they had even bothered to come to his rescue five minutes ago.

"This has got to be a joke"

He grumbled the whole way to his jeep, not quite knowing how he'd managed to successfully bring Derek along with him. It was undoubtedly another one of his spectacular accolades which would go down in history together with holding up the grumpy werewolf for two hours in the pool, dressing up Jackson and getting him in the police station's van, completing the fairy dust mini-quest and, in general, managing to keep most of his sanity since Scott had been bitten.

"What's with my life and nude males though" Stiles asked himself.

He threw Derek onto the backseat of his jeep one limb at a time and tried not to look at his junk which was hard to ignore once he had taken a peek.

"This is not happening to me"

There was no going around trying to ignore Derek's attractiveness. Stiles was not so biased towards his own feelings of resentment not to admit that. He felt jealous and not totally certain whether he wanted to be Derek or be with him. "Definitely _be_ him" he murmured reassuringly to himself. Stiles had not forgotten the time when Derek had distracted the police officer with his charm and how reluctant he had been in believing its effectiveness. _Well with a smile like that even my Stilinksy heritage would have- wow, stop! why am I even going there?!_ Stiles shrugged the thought aside with a small spasm and took a deep breath. It was clear that with a figure like his, Derek could have any girl, guy or supernatural creature he wanted. Stiles wasn't magically immune to that. He just had a problem with everything else, namely the grumpy personality and shit for temper, not to mention their particular and mutual dislike which didn't have any real basis whatsoever other than the satisfaction they both took in annoying the hell out of each other.

"Yeah that's pretty much it, plus the newly wolf assault" Stiles put an end to his thoughts and noticing he had been standing there doing nothing but staring at Derek's ass, he went scavenging the trunk of his jeep for anything that might cover him up.

He found an old blanket underneath a bunch of rags his dad used to check the engine and pulled it out. It had some grease smears on it and smelled oily but it would have to do. Stiles covered what parts of Derek he could, wiped the blood from his face and hopped on the front seat. Their destination was easy, Dr. Deaton's clinic. He didn't have to think twice.

A few yards ahead, Stiles drove by Derek's Camaro and wondered if he had any spare key tucked away since his clothes and respective pockets were nowhere to be seen. It was a shame because his leather jacket was almost as cool as his car.

* * *

Derek opened his eyes to a dim hazy view. His mind was sluggish and his body felt like it had been torn apart into pieces and put back together. He was healing too slowly to feel any significant changes in his condition, though a gentle rocking motion soothed him and he smelled a familiar musky scent in the air.

"Already up?"

Derek didn't reply mainly because it seemed impossible for him at that point. He was confounded and lost, scanning the inside of what appeared to be Stiles' jeep with suspicion.

"What... happened..?" Derek's voice was husky and gruff, a remainder of his wolf form.

"Great question actually, you turned into a wolf and almost ripped out my chest. Also you ate a deer. Raw. I am utterly disgusted"

Stiles' explanation took a while to hit home. Derek furrowed his eyebrows and tried to overlook the feeble yet persisting ache in his joints so he could concentrate on the subject. The last couple of hours were a complete blank to him and the only thing that ignited any spark of remembrance was the taste of iron on his tongue and the smell of blood stuck in his nose. It took him half his current strength to lift an arm and touch his face. His cheeks were sore and under his chin a thin layer of dry blood stuck to his stubble.

"I was not kidding when I said you ate a live deer dude" Stiles deadpanned "It was not so alive afterwards obviously..."

Derek was having trouble coming to terms with Stiles' account. He was feeling so frail that keeping his eyes open was already a major strain. He tried to recall Laura's stories about turning into a full wolf but it only brought him back the haunting pain of transformation, like that of a man who keeps feeling his hand after it has been chopped off. There was also a continuous pulse resonating through his ears, a beat too brisk and irregular to ignore. Derek shifted his gaze to Stiles and watched him. He had his back turned but Derek could see his bony fingers tapping random patterns on the steering wheel and his right leg jerking up every once in a while. The more Derek focused the more intense every sensation became, the tapping noise, the breathing and the erratic beat of his heart. Stiles was far from calm, a real danger on the road, yet he was the sole person there helping him. Derek mentally thanked him for that. He was about to say something along those lines when an unexpected gag reflex went up his throat. Images of a deer's gut flashed across his eyes accompanied by sounds of tearing flesh and he puked a blob of red goo onto the jeep's carpet.

"What the fuck!" a new event was added to the string of Stiles' dejá vu moments of the day. He lost control of the car, almost zigzagging it into a post. Derek was tossed back and forth on the backseat, each bump increasing his sore spots. Stiles managed to hit the brakes on time and stopped the car by the side of the road.

"I cannot believe this! What the fucking hell man! I quit! I quit!" Stiles' voice was all but manly, his pitch so high it was nearly a screech.

Derek felt like he had his entrails coming out of his mouth and the worst part was he had no idea what to do about it. He was out of his element. It was no wolfsbane-laced bullet wound he could fix, no menial problem he could solve.

"I really want to kill you right now. On my jeep?! My jeep Derek, what the hell?! Couldn't you wait until we got to Deaton's clinic? Dear God, what am I gonna do about this. It's that damn deer, isn't it? This is so sick"

"Could you stop freaking out for a second.. and get me to Deaton" Derek's patience was suffering such a stretch he could barely hold himself together.

"Oh God, the smell-"

"STILES"

"Yeah, I'm going!"

* * *

Stiles rushed into the clinic in a frenzy, not bothering to close the door behind him. An old lady sitting in the waiting room sent him a most outraged look and the big fat cat on her lap hissed at him angrily. He probably stank so much of wolf he might have been one by association in feline standards. Nevertheless, Stiles put it aside. After everything he had been through that day, a displeased cat was the least of his worries, though that didn't stop the old lady from giving him a few words.

"Careful with the door young man, Mr. DaVinci is very grouchy today" she said petting her cat.

"You should check out my wolf- I mean my dog, Miguel... angelo"

"Michelangelo, like the painter?" The old lady furrowed an eyebrow curiously but she didn't have time to hear the answer for Dr. Deaton entered the room, his attention instantly on Stiles.

"Oh, is it our turn now?" she said eagerly.

"Yes Mrs. Lawrence, please go right in. I'll be with you in a moment" Deaton told her politely, stepping aside and giving way to his office door.

"Hey" Stiles' greeting was cut and short. He raised his hand in a quick motion and then gestured towards the clinic's entrance from where his jeep could be seen.

"What are you doing here?" Deaton paid no mind to his signals. His stare was fixed on Stiles' shirt where Derek had rested his heavy paw and torn the fabric.

"I had a problem with my..." Stiles noticed the lady peeking from the office door and coughed the word aloud "dog!"

Deaton turned around to give the old lady an encouraging smile, hoping she would stop eavesdropping and leave but she just smiled back, not moving an inch from her spot.

"McCall?" Deaton asked Stiles with the best poker face he had ever seen.

"Uh... no. It's-"

"Michelangelo" the old lady said "You know, like the painter"

Stiles had to suppress the urge to facepalm his whole head. Deaton just looked at Mrs. Lawrence bewildered.

"No, no, you got it wrong, it's McHale. Mc-H-A-L-E" Stiles spelled "I just call him the family name because it's easier on the tongue"

"Oh, so it's not like the painter?" the old lady said disappointed.

"No, not really. Anyway" Stiles cleared his throat "He is inside my jeep looking very _very_ bad. You have to see him"

"Can I come?" Mrs. Lawrence pried.

"No" Dr. Deaton's refusal was enough to put her on her toes "It might be something contagious. You should stay here. It won't take long Mrs. Lawrence"

She wrinkled her nose in disdain, nodded her head and strut back towards the office shutting the door after her.

"Well that was awkward" Stiles murmured.

"What were you thinking bringing up that sort of subject in here? What happened?" Deaton scolded him.

"You'll have to see for yourself, but you've already missed the fun part" Stiles replied.

They were already out of the clinic, approaching the jeep.

"He turned into a full wolf" Stiles concluded as he reached for the handle. Deaton's eyes widened a bit in surprise and he peeked through the window.

"First time?"

"Yeah. Wanna guess who was the lucky spectator?" Stiles announced happily with sarcasm "Good ol' Stiles" he pointed at himself.

"I can see that. Did he bite you?"

"Nope. But he is naked and vomiting a digested deer" Stiles opened the door of the jeep and Derek came into view in a half-sitting position. The blanket was covering him from the waist down and his upper torso was spattered with gore. Stiles would have lingered longer on the curve of his back, but the red vomiting staining his seats made that completely impossible.

"I heard what happened. Can you ear me?" Deaton asked Derek. He received a blank look in response, but a few seconds afterward Derek nodded meekly.

"It was the first time you changed into a wolf so the healing process is going to feel a lot slower. It doesn't mean it's not there, don't worry. The structure of your body was transformed into one that is entirely different. You re-arranged your skeleton basically. The pain is not only natural but logical. The more you change, the more you suffer"

Stiles bit his lower lip feeling his mouth go dry. Just imagining what Derek was going through made his teeth grind.

"With practice the pain goes away, your body has to get used to a new shape-"

"But how... did I turn?" Derek's ragged voice interrupted Deaton's speech. He sounded quite miserable.

"The threat of the Alpha pack and the disappearance of two of your Betas certainly had something to do with it, not to mention your sister. It's not uncommon for family members to share these kinds of traits, but it must have been the present circumstances of your pack that triggered the transformation. The need to be stronger is intrinsic to every Alpha, especially under threat. You needed to protect them, but because there was nothing your human part could do, your wolf took over"

"So, it's just going to get worse... I'm not in control of anything" Derek's voice was a broken chord as he admitted his failure.

"No. The only thing you can do nothing about is caring too much for them." Deaton told him. Derek's eyes lost some of their mist and a glimmer in them caught Stiles' attention "You've never been an Alpha before so you probably don't know much about it beyond the power extension"

Derek remained silent, slightly offended by Deaton's assessment.

"You're going to feel much stronger bonds with your pack. Just like family, a family you can't live without. You're responsible for them and they are essential to you and your position. They depend on you, even if they don't show it. Take Erica and Boyd for example. They ran but they never left. You're going to find them even if it takes all you have. You even changed into a wolf. So yes, you're not in control of things, you're a terrible leader because you don't think before you act and you don't trust anyone but yourself. However, once you get over those barriers you're going to be fine. You already have good intentions. I hope"

The last remark was said with irony and Deaton stepped back from the jeep. Stiles let out the breath he had been holding for the past five minutes and looked at Derek with a smirk, feeling much like an elementary school kid who had just seen his classmate getting scolded.

"Stiles"

He almost jumped when he heard his name "Yeah?"

"I don't have time to stay here chatting" Deaton said "I imagine what must have happened since Scott is not trailing beside you, so just do what I say and get in touch with him as soon as possible"

"Yeah sure" Stiles shrugged.

"You're going to take Derek with you. He doesn't need anything except time to recover. His healing process will do everything by itself. You just stay with him until he's back to normal and-"

"What!? How long is that going to take? It's already late and I" he began complaining but Deaton would not take any of his excuses.

"If you want to help, you'll do it" It was enough to shut him up, though Stiles always had more with which to defend his causes. He was still pissed as hell for the state of his car, for the safety of his friends and his dad and for the psychological and bodily harm done to himself, all of it courtesy of Derek Hale.

"He will be back to normal tomorrow-"

"WHAT?"

"What?"

Stiles and Derek raised their concerns at the same time, neither of them making eye contact with each other.

"It could be sooner. It depends on the person, but normally it takes awhile to stabilize, especially if you intend to turn as soon as possible" Deaton shot Derek a grave look and then bid his goodbyes.

"Take care and Stiles, please don't mention what happened with Mrs. Lawrence"

"Oh, sure no prob- hey! Can't you at least give him some pants!?" Stiles exclaimed outraged. Derek just shook his head and fell down on the seat resigned.

"I thought I saw your lacrosse backpack on the front seat" Deaton mused. Stiles ran to the jeep and plastered his face on the window to look inside.

"Oh shit"


	3. Only For A Night

 

Deaton was long gone by the time Stiles was confronted with the task of having to put his lacrosse gear on Derek. The vet was probably very pleased at how he had left the situation because the ensuing degree of awkward was just too sick to be legal and Deaton was a very sick man. Very sick indeed.

Stiles filled his lungs with air, inhaling as much as he could in the hopes of bursting from the inside out and, disappointed with the result, he blinked three times before glancing at the werewolf lying back.

"So, do you want me to..." his mumbling died to a whisper as he felt his veins heat up.

"No!" Derek barked at once, clearly guessing Stiles' purpose.

"You know, it's not my first time doing this-"

"No! Just give me that" Derek grunted.

Stiles complied obediently. He rolled his jersey and shorts into a bundle, threw it over the front seat and missed Derek's expectant hand by a mile, earning a growl in response. He twirled around quickly and returned to his place by the steering wheel before any other complaints came his way. Stiles sat there in wait, dealing with the strange rush that had just gripped him and made his blood race. The reaction wasn't natural and all he could think about for a second was Lydia. It was not her image that came to him but the feeling that usually accompanied it. He pulled down the sun visor to check himself in the mirror, positive he had gone crazy. For some reason Derek's cursing and moaning while dressing himself was not helping him get over his issue and Stiles was not sure in what way the sounds bothered him. Inappropriate was the only thing that crossed his mind. He decided to turn the keys and start the jeep to flee from his thoughts.

"Next stop Hale house" he announced nervously. A newbie error surely but Stiles wasn't processing things with his usual sobriety. Derek's rebuff was predictable.

"No"

"What do you mean _no_? I am dropping you off ASAP. You you seem to be recovering pretty fast so-"

"The house is not safe"

"Exactly my point" Stiles emphasized.

"It's not safe" Derek repeated "for _you_ "

That put a definite brake on Stiles and Stiles' jeep. He stopped his fidgeting and closed his mouth finding he had no witty retort to say. It took him a couple of seconds to absorb the actual meaning of the words, yet once they clicked Stiles could not but look back at Derek with mouth ajar. The werewolf was struggling with his jersey, a frown plastered all over his face, most likely not aware of what he had just said. Stiles didn't know why the words had startled him so much either, but for the first time that day he was able to relax his muscles and let them sink into his bones. He appreciated that even though Derek was no banner for sensibility.

"Ugh, seriously, just stop, leave that" Stiles grumbled, tired of watching Derek's endless struggle with his clothes. He lunged back, landing a knee on a heap of blanket which turned out to be Derek's calf. The latter screamed in pain.

"You're doing this on purpose, aren't you?!" Derek snarled angrily, though much less threatening now that he was in his human form. His eyes were free of their eerie red as well.

"I'm just trying to help, could you shut up for two minutes? And stop being such a prude, Jesus!"

After ten more minutes of deafening arguing, pushing and pulling, Derek was finally dressed and Stiles stepped on the accelerator with relief.

"Remind me to never dress your werewolf ass again. Ever!"

Derek lay down on the backseat covered by the dirty blanket with his back turned, obviously displeased. Stiles agreed that the experience would be one they would both desperately try to forget in the immediate future. However, the embarrassment would not stop him from rubbing a little more salt on the wound and, given the fact Derek was basically harmless for the next few hours, Stiles might as well enjoy himself.

"Well?" it was hard to disguise the tease from his voice, but Derek didn't reply to him all the same. He seemed to be allergic to jokes and any attempt at making him laugh only proved it.

"A thanks would be nice" Stiles plowed on, more tentatively than he intended.

"Thanks"

Fortunately a red light came on, otherwise Stiles might have dropped the jeep in the middle of the road and induced a domino of destruction. His eyes darted to the rear-view mirror, searching for any clue that might explain Derek's sudden bout of gratitude. The word had been small and muffled but Stiles had heard it crystal clear. Something was not right. This was just like 'smiling Derek' earlier that morning and look at what that had brought on. Stiles arched one eyebrow and licked his lips nervously. Derek turned his head around slowly and looked at Stiles over his shoulder offended by the stare boring holes on his back. The daunting look on his face was easily misinterpreted.

"What? You want me thank you for almost ripping off my ribcage? For killing a poor defenseless deer and throwing it up on my jeep? Don't think so!"

"No I-"

"It was rhetorical!"

Stiles' outburst put an early end to their conversation and gladly so. He was ever prone to indulge Derek's grumpiness.

* * *

Stiles' cellphone rang while they rode aimlessly around town. Its noise tore at the sultry silence inside the jeep like a knife. It awoke Derek from the reverie he had succumbed to once he started feeling the regenerative cells work on his body. Their healing effect had put the soreness at bay and the rumbling of the motor had distracted him from Stiles' disconcerting heartbeat, letting him relax into a dreamless sleep. It was part Derek's beastly side, part sheer curiosity that drove him attentive towards such gentle sounds. They reminded him of his childhood, when every heartbeat was a novelty to be discovered; when he was still mildly interested in people and not only in the lies they carried with them.

"Yeah, dad?"

Sheriff Stilinski's voice was barely perceptible. Derek's mind was too hazy to discern the words being spoken, hence all he managed to gather from the chat between father and son was a string of broken syllables that didn't make any sense. The chat had been short though and Stiles' quick pulse betrayed the sigh with which he had ended the call. It was enough to spark Derek's interest but he was unable to bring up any questions regarding the subject. A lump impossible to swallow had lodged itself on his throat after the total botch he had made of his thanks earlier. He regretted it so much he wanted to bite his own tongue off. Derek was not in a state where he should be dealing with Stiles' antics. He was so far off his usual self-control he could barely believe it. He had allowed pity to take hold of his tongue. There could be no other explanation. He and Stiles were so thoroughly incompatible it was almost hilarious. Notwithstanding, it was ridiculous how every time they got jumbled together something terrible had to happen.

"You heard?" Stiles said morosely. He sounded too numb for good news. Derek's lack of response urged him on so he continued "Somebody was found dead near the old diner by the south road"

Derek did his math pretty fast, surprising his own sluggish brain. The place was near the warehouse they had fled from just an hour ago and whatever had happened there must have involved werewolves. Neither of them disagreed on that. It was simple. The only thing that worried Derek was not knowing if he had been responsible for the victim. His short time as a wolf had yet to haunt him with proper memories.

"My dad says it's no one I might know" Stiles said. He was either a good mind reader or just talking to reassure himself "It was an adult male. No specifics on the cause of death, just that it was a bloody one, not for minors to see know or be interested in" he said in a cheap mimic of his father. Derek grunted just to let Stiles know he was listening.

"Do your werewolf senses pick anything up?" Stiles was brave in asking but Derek felt nothing. He wasn't feeling anything but pain since he had regained his human shape. His bonds with the pack were not lost but he couldn't feel their presence either. It was like being a fresh Beta all over again, completely oblivious of the world yet knowing something vital was missing. Derek knew that his connection to the pack would eventually come back along with the rest of his strength and vitality, however, he didn't know exactly when and that meant he would have to wait. Time had never been so agonizing.

"No" he uttered feebly. The weigh of his failures increased by the second "Where's Scott?"

"The million dollar question" Stiles quipped "He went after Peter with Isaac, said he was dying"

Derek did not feel half so crushed at the news as a nephew should, but who could blame him? Peter had not been so family-biased lately either. The little prickle of wrath Derek bore with him everywhere sunk deeper. His fists curled unwillingly and he hissed at the pain in his wrists.

"Are they stupid? If the alphas get Peter they're done for"

"I warned them but they didn't care. I had to supervise your Majesty" Stiles whined "You think they'll kill Scott?" there was no masking the concern in his voice and Derek reckoned that deserved his honest opinion.

"They came here for revenge" he said. It was just a assumption made by the symbol left on his front door but Derek thought it wise to be prepared for the worst "If Peter was involved they won't let go until they've killed him and his pack"

"You've let Peter into your pack, haven't you?" It was more a statement than a question and Derek's muteness served as confirmation.

"It's okay as long as Scott's not a part of it"

"Then what the hell is he doing?" Derek's loud protest brought a second lump to his throat and he recoiled back into total silence. He was reminded of the reason why he didn't like disclosing information with people, Stiles in particular. Fear. His heartbeat was all over the place, his sweaty palms smelled a mile away and he was once again squirming restlessly in his seat; reaching a hand into his backpack for his pills. Derek was becoming quite accustomed to it. More than he liked.

* * *

 

Stiles ended up driving home. With his dad gone for the day due to the dead body found near the warehouse, he had no alternative. It would be futile to argue about it with Derek because Stiles knew the decision to be for the best as well. Derek was too weak to protect himself and Stiles wasn't exactly the secret weapon of the group. Thus the less people around the better. He only hoped his dad wouldn't show up in the next four to five hours or else he would be in for a lifetime of grounding, which reminded him why Derek's visits should always be kept at a minimum; now more than ever, since he could turn into a raging wolf at any time without willingly consenting it.

Stiles parked his jeep inside the garage and helped Derek up to his bedroom. The hauling was much easier with Derek putting one feet in front of the other and Stiles was incredibly glad he didn't have to go through the same nightmarish strain he had experienced that afternoon. He dropped Derek on the bed and proceeded to lock his windows.

"You're gonna stay here, you don't leave, you don't breathe, you don't bark, you don't nothing. Don't touch anything. Don't be creepy. Just lay there, sleep, regenerate limbs, I don't care. I'm tolerating you here because we've nowhere else to go, so my house-"

"Your rules" Derek finished with a roll of eyes. Stiles felt a smile creep up his face.

"Right. Good boy" he was actually surprised at Derek's compliance in spite of the obvious derision in his tone "I'm going to clean the mess you made in my jeep. I'll be back"

Derek turned his gaze away as a reply.

It took Stiles less than five minutes alone to completely lose track of what he was doing. His dread unleashed in full force and he could not stop picturing the next horror in store for them. His mind jumped from one thought to the other, unable to focus. Derek powerless, Peter dying, Scott probably dying, fresh corpse on the road, alpha pack. Just remembering how he had been sulking over his broken heart that morning was enough to submerge him in a sea of self-loathing. It seemed so meaningless next to everything that had happened. How could he have thought werewolf business was ever at its end? Hell, it never was.

In a crave for pills, Stiles found himself washing the jeep's windshield.

"Great job, dumbass" he muttered under his breath. He turned on the tap and hosed the front of the jeep carelessly.

* * *

 

Derek was not certain whether he was creating a whole new level of bigotry against Stiles' bedroom or if the gradual return of his powers was preventing him from getting any sleep. His whole body felt like an itch he couldn't scratch and everywhere he looked only aggravated his state. Stiles was not incredibly messy, yet his room was very much his own and Derek felt completely out of place. He could not relate to anything, not family pictures, not even an old displaced sock. Everything had burned away and it was hard to lay there practically immovable looking at those little things that reminded him of what he had lost; of what he had done. He shook his head.

As if his useless body wasn't reason enough to depress him, his conscience had to come running and add to the part. What a fucking party.

Near the verge of his patience, Derek decided that he would rather kill himself trying to go down the stairs than stay another minute wallowing in misery. He pushed himself off the bed, feeling a sharp pain travel down his spinal cord, and limped towards the door.

Despite having the soreness relocated to his muscles, he was glad his bones were no longer tormenting him at the joints. Not feeling his bone marrow on fire was a nice improvement and his keen werewolf senses seemed to be slowly resurfacing. Derek could hear the sound of sprinkling water downstairs, dripping to the floor and flowing down the drainpipes, the dog next door trotting after its owner, the cars passing by. However, there was a sound he could not hear which he _was_ supposed to; a sound that had accompanied him all day.

"Stiles"

He clang to the staircase railing and climbed down as fast as he could. With his guard down anything could have happened and Derek already had enough blood on his hands.

Amidst his rush, a strong migraine hit him like a bomb and turned his world black. The feeling was not unknown to him. It had been a while since he had felt pack bonds so intensely. Images flashed before him as if he was seeing them through another person's eyes. He saw bodies lying on the forest ground and shadows looming over them with claws dripping blood. A foreign dismay gripped him in an icy embrace, chilling his insides. The dizziness made him miss a step and he tumbled down the stairs raising a racket. He was still half-numb when he heard footsteps approaching and Stiles entered his blurry field of view.

"What the hell?! What happened? What did I tell you about not moving!" he cried out exasperated "You want me to have an heart attack?!" Stiles' heartbeat was in such a clamor it's noise punctured Derek's brain.

"Dying..." he uttered disgruntled.

"Dying? Yeah, Peter was dying but Scott went to help him, go figure" Stiles rambled "Are your werewolf senses lagging?"

"No, it's not Peter, he's weak but it's not him"

"Who then?"

"It's Jackson"

There was a brief pause while Stiles digested the information and Derek noticed how he was still holding a soggy sponge that trickled crimson drops of detergent and blood.

"Well okay, Jackson's dying but I'm sure he's not alone if he got the werewolf SOS. Besides, you're not going anywhere like this. What do you think you're gonna do? Crawl up the bad guy's legs and make him fall on his ass? Do I need to call Deaton to remind you of the pathetic condition your in?"

Derek was silent. He didn't have the strength to do much else apart from cursing internally. Calling it frustration was the understatement of the century.

"Yeah, being useless sucks, no shit" Stiles said. He sounded patronizing but there was some degree of understanding in his voice "Everybody is out there doing stuff, saving people and getting killed and here you are safe and sound. Big roller-coaster for you today, uh? I mean from werewolf to wolf and now to human. I can't believe you haven't collapsed yet. Well, in any case, you're going back the way you came and you're going to stay put. I'll call Scott"

* * *

Scott picked up at the third try. Hearing his voice was half relief, half vexation.

"I have sent you a dozen texts. What the hell, man? Is everything okay? What happened?"

"Where are you?"

Not having his questions answered unnerved Stiles more than he could tell. He replied nonetheless.

"At home. Derek's here and he is freaking out-"

"I'll be there in five minutes" Scott said before hanging up. Stiles stared at his phone in disbelief.

"How rude" he pointed out to Derek who bore a similar expression.

"I was not _freaking out_ " he deadpanned. Stiles had to stifle his laugh.

"Oh yes you were. You fell down the stairs because you sensed the little lizar- I mean werewolf cub in danger"

Stiles looked Derek in the eye to bask in the glory of his joke, but where he should have found some indignation he found only a soft expression instead. His heart sunk momentarily, leaving him breathless. Derek's vulnerability was something Stiles wasn't able to deal with, therefore he turned away, choosing to examine the interesting layer of dust covering his desk.

He felt Derek's eyes on him, studying him attentively. He had never felt so awkward before. The silence between them, which had been so beneficial in the jeep, was now simply suffocating. Stiles didn't know what to do with his hands or feet, his voice was nowhere to be found and he had no idea what to say. Fortunately his fidgeting habits were nothing abnormal for the rest of the world.

Scott broke their distressing situation with a knock on the window. Stiles practically ran towards it, welcoming him with a effortless smile. Somehow it just stretched stupidly across his face.

"Dude!"

"Hey" There was a huge gash on Scott's neck that had not yet healed completely "Hey Derek"

Derek gave him a short nod and went straight to the point "Where's Jackson?"

"Is he dead? My dad told me they found a dead body near the warehouse-"

"They got Jackson" Scott said "Two of them. Twins. They ambushed Peter first but we got there in time. They turned to Jackson later"

"So they're looking for bait" Derek reasoned.

"Yeah"

"But isn't Isaac with you?" Stiles wondered, glancing at the window expecting to see the tall boy pop up at any minute.

"No, he went with Peter back to Derek's house"

"Yeah, that's clever" Stiles snorted.

"Peter said it was better to separate into groups while Derek was out"

"I'm not out" Derek grumbled.

"You told Peter about the wolf thing?"

"Yeah, he didn't seem surprised but he said it would be troublesome until Derek can control it"

Derek refused to comment on his uncle's theory.

"Derek's still a long way from that" Stiles stressed "Anyway, what about the dead body? Did it have anything to do with you guys? And what the hell do the alphas even want here?"

"Did they say anything about revenge?" Derek pitched in.

"They mentioned something about their leader, I think Peter might know him. I didn't ask" Scott confessed. He never disappointed with his excuses and Stiles had to hold back a nasty remark.

"Didn't you think it would be important? What about the dead person?" he insisted.

"Peter said that two packs never share the same area"

"Okay, so they are territorial, does that mean they'll fight against Derek's pack over Beacon Hills?" the idea seemed even more silly when he said it out loud.

"Guess so" Scott replied a bit perplexed.

"They are not going to fight us" Derek's grave manner captured Scott and Stiles' attention "They are an Alpha pack. They don't scare other packs away. They kill them"

Scott seemed to have lost his speech.

"And they kill innocents too? Somebody is lying dead on the side of the road because a pack of self-important werewolves decided to strut back to their old neighborhood on the account of some personal vendetta? Are you kidding me?" Stiles was a hair's breath away from freaking the fuck out and Derek's calmness and Scott's aloofness were not the least bit comforting.

"That was a demonstration of power. They're telling us they can kill whomever they want because they can. It's an intimidation maneuver" Derek explained.

"So we're at war? 'Cause I didn't call for it!" Stiles cried out, wishing he could just drown in his own sarcasm.

"What do we do?"

"They are asking for blood so we're going to give it to them" Derek muttered through gritted teeth. His voice sounded like thunder rumbling in the distance and Stiles felt goosebumps creep up his arms.

"Scott, remember my omen this morning? I told you it would be bad"

Scott looked at him like a lost puppy, unable to utter a word.

"Also, great time to go quadruped on us Derek" Stiles complained "Especially when you can't even control yourself and end up freaking paralyzed"

If Derek could obliterate him with beams of rage, he was probably doing it right now. However, his trick failed to stop Stiles from venting out his panic.

"Tell Peter I'll meet with him by dawn and don't do anything until then" Derek told Scott.

"What about Jackson?"

"He'll be fine. He must be with Erica and Boyd"

"They're not exactly prancing in the hills" Stiles added.

"Doesn't matter. It's only for a night. If the alphas came here for revenge they'll want Peter first"

"Wow, I love that speculative logic"

"Stiles shut it"

"Shutting it"

"What about you? Are you sure you'll be fine by then? Can you move?" Scott asked Derek, looking at him with suspicion "Wait, is that Stiles' lacrosse-"

"He fell down the stairs knowing he could barely walk. I'm sure he will be fine" Stiles interjected quickly, refusing to let the conversation lean towards more sordid details "Also, in case this is not common knowledge, Stiles' bedroom is not a private werewolf hospital, much less their den of scheming"

"Yeah Stiles, sorry about that" Scott's apology was a balm to his feelings "But it's only for a night"

"Wow, so what? You're leaving me with him? AGAIN?"

Derek arched an inquisitive eyebrow, probably wondering if they knew he was still there.

"Your dad will be here any minute. I don't have time to move him"

"You have supernatural powers dude and yes, my dad might show up at any minute, that's precisely my point!"

Scott shrugged.

"Where would I even keep him?"

"I don't know!? Why not _your_ bedroom?"

"Are you crazy? My mom would freak out" Scott said defensively.

"And my dad won't? He doesn't even know werewolves exist. He would probably think I'm having a psychotic episode from taking too much Adderall"

"Stiles..."

"No! No, not Stiles! That game doesn't work anymore I demand-"

Their discussion ended as a door opened downstairs and the sheriff's voice resonated throughout the house.

"Stiles?"

It was then Stiles remembered he had not finished washing the jeep.

"Just tell your dad you're going to bed early because you have a test tomorrow or something" Scott whispered hurriedly, patting him on the back.

"You really think that is going to stick?! It's me Scott! What kinds of stupid excuses do you think I've pulled in my li-"

"Son?" the sheriff's voice called again.

"Scott! No! Don't you dare, Scott!"

Scott mouthed him an amused 'good luck' from the window and disappeared into the dusk, leaving Stiles with an extreme wish to rip Scott's grin off his face in the goriest way possible.

"Son, are you there?"

"Yeah" Stiles bolted from his room without a second look towards Derek and shut the door behind him. The situation was not alien to him, but there had been enough deja vus for one day.

 


End file.
